


Proportional Response

by oliviacirce



Series: Looking Like You Do [2]
Category: Iron Man - All Media Types, One Direction (Band), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, Costumes, Dressup, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Non-Negotiated Kink, Overidentification With Fictional Characters, Roleplay, Second Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2013-12-02
Packaged: 2018-01-03 06:42:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1067292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oliviacirce/pseuds/oliviacirce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Louis," Liam says, "are you going to fuck me as Iron Man, or what?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proportional Response

**Author's Note:**

> So this one time Liam Payne dressed up as David Beckham for the fancy dress tour wrap party, and mistresscurvy and I lost our shit; then we made a pact that if she wrote the story necessitated by Liam dressing up as actual Beckham in actual real life ([Counterattack](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1039523)), I would write the sequel in which Louis wore his Iron Man costume as sex revenge. This story also fills the "dressup" square on my 2013 kink bingo card. 
> 
> Thanks to harriet_vane and mistresscurvy for audiencing and encouragement, sunsetmog for brit pick, and trinity_clare for beta. This story is 100% fiction.

Liam waits a whole twenty-four hours after they get back to London. He sleeps for about the first twenty of them. When he can't sleep any longer, he gets up, showers, nips out to the shops for milk and bread and bacon and eggs, and makes himself an enormous breakfast. He calls his parents, calls Ruth, does the washing up. He starts to unpack from tour—and feels a hot rush of smug self-satisfaction when he drops the Beckham shirt into his dirty washing pile, because it _worked_. It finally, _finally_ worked, and for a moment he can still feel Louis's hands twisting in the fabric against his chest, tugging the shirt off. He swallows hard, makes himself finish unpacking; and then, when he's really starting to get twitchy, antsy and anxious and too warm, he texts Louis.

_Heyyyyyy are you awake??_ he sends. _Want to do somethinggggggggg?? xxx_.

Louis texts back immediately. _Yes !! Just got up :) Give me an hour and then come round_ , and then, on the heels of that text, just, _xxx_.

Liam grins down at his phone, and writes back, _Yayyyyyyyyy see you soon!!! x_.

He's calmer, after that—or at least he thinks he is, until he catches himself trying on the fourth shirt in a row, trying to work out what to wear over to Louis's, and actually has to stop and bang his head against the mirror for a minute. Louis has seen him in every state imaginable, in every item in his entire wardrobe, half-asleep and high and drunk and sick, and there is literally no reason for Liam to be worrying about this. Especially not now, after Japan, after they woke up together, and went down to breakfast together, after Niall rolled his eyes at them, and Zayn gave them a sweet, sleepy smile, and Harry said, "well fucking _finally_." Not after they flew back to London, sitting side-by-side with their hands tangled up together and Louis asleep on Liam's shoulder. It's so stupid for Liam to be worrying about this; it's just that it's _Louis_. Really, properly Louis. At last. 

Liam gives the footy shirt in the washing pile one last glance, half-wistful; but it's just them, this time, and he doesn't need Beckham to hide behind. He leaves the shirt where it is and tugs on jeans and boots and his favorite Batman t-shirt, and a jumper over that against the cold. Louis's flat isn't far, and he gets there without anyone recognizing him—or at least, in the manner of London, without anyone bothering to care. 

He takes the steps two at a time and rings the bell on the door of Louis's flat, rocking a little on his heels while he waits. It's a long minute of waiting, until he hears Louis's footsteps and the slide of the lock.

Iron Man opens the door.

Liam stares, speechless. He's known about the suit all along—he was there when Louis decided to buy it, and when Louis couldn't stop talking about how cool it was, and when Louis cajoled and sweet-talked Caroline into taking all his measurements so he could get the custom fit. Liam _knew_ that Louis owned a full Iron Man costume—was maybe even a little envious—but knowing it and seeing it are two different things entirely. 

He takes a shaky breath. His heart rate is speeding up and he's already half-hard, a little uncomfortable in his jeans. This is not what he was expecting.

"Hi Liam," says Iron Man. He sounds like Louis, but he also sounds like Iron Man, his voice lower and darker behind the mask. "Why don't you come in?" 

"Okay," Liam says faintly. His own voice sounds strangled and overwhelmed—which makes sense, since that's pretty much exactly how he feels. 

Iron Man turns slowly, giving Liam a perfect view of the back of the suit, the long red and gold lines of metal and plastic and machinery. He _knows_ it's Louis, would know Louis's arse and shoulders and the curve of his spine just about anywhere; but the way the suit fits his body—snugly echoing every familiar curve, and then at the same time making him bigger and broader and a little alien—is startling, and hot, and just a bit frightening. 

Liam follows him into the flat, shutting the door behind them; and then, before he can say anything, Iron Man has him pressed up against the door. Liam's feet are caught between the suit's boots, the bottom edge of the breastplate sharp against his hips. Iron Man puts one hand flat on the door next to Liam's head, and his other hand hovers between them, repulsor beam glowing in his palm. _It lights up_ , Liam thinks helplessly. His breathing has gone completely bonkers, shaking harsh and uneven in his chest, and his dick is straining up against the zipper of his jeans. He wonders if Louis can feel it, through the layers of the suit. 

"What—" he starts, "Lou, _what_ —" 

Iron Man puts one cold finger against Liam's lips, effectively shutting him up. Liam can't help it: he opens his mouth, tasting the metal and plastic of the glove, and behind the mask he thinks he can hear Louis's sharp intake of breath. 

"Lou," he says recklessly, "take off the—put up the visor, yeah?" He reaches out and traces the thin line of Iron Man's mouth. 

The suit's eyes glow, and Louis says, very distinctly, "Fuck." 

The visor lifts. Liam thinks distantly that Louis's eyes seem as bright as the suit's, and then they're kissing. Louis takes his hand from Liam's mouth and flattens it against his chest, and Liam gets one hand on the waist of the suit and the other round the back of Louis's neck, holding on tight to the bumping ridges that connect the helmet to the shoulders. Louis bites down hard on Liam's lip and Liam gasps into the kiss, sucks on Louis's tongue and chases the taste of him back into his mouth. 

"Hi," Liam says nonsensically, when they pull back to breathe. "I, um—I missed you."

Louis rolls his eyes, but one corner of his mouth lifts at the same time, the familiar look of Louis trying not to be pleased about something Liam's said. "It's been a _day_ , Liam." 

Liam blushes and bites his lip, and then watches Louis's eyes focus on his mouth. It's kind of stupid, how he can miss Louis so much after just a day apart, when they've been living in each other's pockets for eight months—or three years, depending on how you count—but he did. "Yeah," he says, "but I missed you, even more than I do normally, right after tour, and after we—so I thought we might, like, watch a movie and get a takeaway and have a snog on the sofa. I didn't—" He makes a helpless gesture, trying to encompass the Iron Man suit and Louis inside it, the way the costume _works_ on Louis in a way that Liam can't even really begin to comprehend. "This is kind of a lot, mate. I wasn't expecting a whole production." 

Louis's eyes lift back up from Liam's mouth, narrowing. " _Beckham_ ," he says pointedly, and Liam blinks in surprise. 

"I thought you liked that?" Liam asks, uncertainly. Louis hadn't, at first, but that had been because he hadn't known Liam meant it for him. "I know you were a bit upset, but then you said—" 

Louis's cheeks are pink, even in the shadow of the Iron Man helmet, but he looks determined and a little angry. Liam moves to take a step back before he realizes that Louis's still got him pressed against the door and there's nowhere for him to go, unless he wants to make an effort to push Louis away. He doesn't want to push Louis away—especially not now, when the suit gives Louis a physical presence and machine-made muscle mass that he doesn't usually have, for all that he's well fit and can hold the attention of a whole room any time he likes, for all that he's had Liam's attention since day one. Liam swallows hard, going hot all over, and his dick twitches.

"Yeah, fine," Louis says sharply, "I did like it, alright? It was fucking hot, but _you_ ," he pokes Liam's chest with one metal finger, "you didn't exactly think it through, did you, dressing up as the oldest wank fantasy I have, as my fucking _idol_. Do you know what that's like, Payno? _Do you_?" He leans in closer, and the edge of the mask catches Liam's cheek. "This is just fair play."

Liam's head falls back against the door, and he's arching up against Louis before he can think it through. Louis bites his neck, a scrape of teeth just below his ear and then down the side of his throat, and Liam grips Louis's waist through the suit. "Okay," he says breathlessly, "Yeah, okay." 

Abruptly, Louis lets go of him and takes a full step back, out of Liam's reach. Liam's hands chase after him for a moment, but he drops them when he sees the look on Louis's face. He looks panicked, which is not a look that Liam likes on either Louis or Iron Man. "What?" Louis demands. "What do you mean, _okay_?"

Liam blinks, confused. "I—" He has no idea what Louis is on about. "I thought you were, like—" He can feel himself turning red, but he puts his shoulders back and soldiers on. "You're wearing the Iron Man suit, mate, and you said—I thought maybe you were going to show me what it was like? To, uh, to fuck me dressed as my idol." 

Louis is staring at him, eyes wide. "You'd like that?" 

Liam stares back. "Yes?" It comes out sounding like a question, which it isn't at all. " _Yes_ ," he tries again, and this time it sounds more sure. "This is like—Lou, for fuck's sake, mate, do you have any idea how hot you are in that suit? I kind of just want to get down on my knees." 

"Jesus," Louis breathes. He takes half a step towards Liam, but stops before Liam can reach out to him. "I wasn't even—"

Liam frowns. "What? What did you think I was going to say?" 

Louis shakes his head. "I didn't—" He huffs a laugh, bitter and self-deprecating. "I didn't really get that far. I just thought—I wanted to get back at you, for Beckham." He looks away, the helmet blocking his face from Liam's view. "I thought maybe you'd laugh. Or, if you didn't laugh, I thought maybe you'd get angry, or leave, or—if you didn't laugh, and you didn't leave, then I thought you'd, like—take charge, again. Because you're Iron Man, Liam, not me." 

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Liam says. 

Louis whirls to face him again, hands on his hips. The Louisness of the gesture, in the Iron Man suit, is a lot to take in; but Liam can't afford to be distracted in the middle of a fight, especially not a fight with Lou. "It's not stupid," Louis says angrily. "Have you _seen_ you? With your—" He waves a hand at Liam. "You're like—Beckham, Iron Man, all of them. I can't keep up. I don't know why you would even want—" He cuts himself off, pressing his lips together. Liam wants to kiss him. 

"Hey," he says instead, pushing off the door and taking a cautious step towards Louis. "Don't, like—don't insult my taste, mate." 

"Your taste is suspect," Louis snaps, "you were getting off on Iron Man." 

" _Yes_ ," Liam says, finally in range to catch Louis's hand. The circle of the repulsor beam is warm where it presses into his palm. "Because _you're_ Iron Man, Lou. Not me." He squeezes Louis's hand through the glove. "You're prickly and difficult, and really _stupid_ sometimes, and you're sarcastic, and you're also good, and brave, and—" He tugs on Louis's hand until they're back in each other's space. "The suit is really fucking hot, and like—I always think you're hot, Lou, but I like that the suit makes you all— _bigger_ than me. You could fuck me, dressed like Iron Man, if you wanted. I'd like that." He's blushing again, but he keeps talking. "But it's not about the suit, really, it's like—it's just about who you are on the inside, right? You are Iron Man." 

"Oh," Louis breathes, and kisses him. It's a hot, biting kiss, Louis's mouth rough and wet against Liam's, and then abruptly it turns sweet. Liam licks gently into Louis's mouth and gets both arms around him. He kisses Louis's mouth, and then kisses along his jaw, nipping at the hollow of his throat. Louis tilts his head back, but the suit cuts off Liam's access to his neck, so Liam kisses the mask, instead. 

"If I'm Iron Man," Louis says, a little breathlessly, "then who are you?" 

"Batman," Liam says promptly, kissing Louis's cheek and then the corner of his mouth. He takes Louis's gloved hands and slides them up his chest. Louis smiles against his mouth, taking the hint and tugging Liam's jumper off over his head. 

They kiss again, and then Louis says, "I don't think you can be Batman, can you? It's a different universe." 

"You've been listening to Zayn," Liam complains. Louis's hands are sliding up under his t-shirt. He fumbles in the gloves for a second, and then twists both of Liam's nipples at once. Liam gasps; he's used to Louis's nipple attacks, but this is something else. "Fine, then," he says, "I'll be—fuck, Louis—I'll be your Pepper Potts." 

He slides a hand down Louis's back to cup his arse, the metal curves of the suit hard and unyielding. There's a little gap at the top of Louis's thigh, under his arse, where the leg armor meets the bottom edge of the backplate, and Liam digs his fingers in until he can feel the give of Louis's skin, soft and human. Louis groans, and yanks off Liam's t-shirt. 

"Can we—" Liam starts, but Louis is already nodding furiously and pulling him down the hall into the bedroom. 

"Pepper Potts is really fantastic," Louis says, pushing Liam up against the wall in the bedroom, "but, Liam, like—you've got to be one of the Avengers, too. I wouldn't get very far, would I, being a superhero without you?" 

Liam has to kiss him, because there is literally no other option. Louis laughs into his mouth, meeting Liam's kiss eagerly; Liam would like to keep kissing Louis forever, but he also wants to get the rest of his kit off. He lets go of Louis's bum reluctantly, and brings his hands up to shove at his chest. Louis doesn't budge, which is both really hot, and really infuriating. " _Bed_ , Louis," he says, finally releasing Louis's mouth. "Come on." 

He pushes at the breastplate of the suit again, and this time Louis takes a step back. He's grinning, his mouth red from kissing, and for a second Liam just wants to _look_ at him; but he's got an agenda, so he undoes his jeans and shoves them down his thighs, and then crouches down to unlace his boots.

"I've got it," Louis says suddenly, in his smuggest voice. "Liam. You're Cap." 

Liam looks up, startled. "What?" 

"You _are_ ," Louis repeats. "You're Captain America." 

"But I'm English," Liam says, bewildered. He finishes with his boots and stands back up, stepping out of his boots and jeans and taking off his socks, until he's stood in Louis's bedroom in just his pants. 

Louis rolls his eyes. "Yes, fine, but listen, Liam—you're honest, and brave, and you always do the right thing, and you're secretly funny even though people think you're a stick in the mud, and you're a natural leader, _and_ ," he takes a step closer and pokes Liam in the chest, "you used to be smaller! Your bloody mad workout regimen might as well be a—whatsit, a supersoldier serum thing." This last part is not a new refrain, even if Liam's never heard it in quite these circumstances; but Louis and Niall and Harry and Zayn have been taking the piss out of him for months, as Liam's been training. He tells them every time that it's just _work_ , not, like, _magic_ , but—he sees Louis's point. 

"And," Louis is saying, on a roll now, "you and I hated each other when we first met, just like Cap and Tony! Because—" 

"Louis," Liam says, so overwhelmed with fondness that his voice catches in his throat, "are you going to fuck me as Iron Man, or what?" 

At this, Louis finally seems to register that Liam's mostly naked. He goes still, and his gaze drops down Liam's body, zeroing in on his dick. He trails his hand down Liam's chest and stomach, and Liam is shivering all over by the time Louis squeezes him through his pants.

"Uh," Louis says, low, and then he gives an embarrassed little cough. "Well, I'd like to, only it took me half an hour to get into this thing, and it hasn't got any flies."

"You are such an idiot," Liam says fondly, and drops to his knees. 

Louis's hands hover for a moment in the air between them, and then land: one on Liam's shoulder and the other in his hair. The heavy fingers of the Iron Man glove catch in his hair, and Liam rests his forehead against Louis's armoured stomach. 

"Oi," Louis says, too breathy and hot for the annoyance to be convincing. "What are you doing down there?" 

"Helping." Liam runs his fingers along the breastplate, over Louis's pelvis and down the sides of his thighs, looking for the fastenings of the suit. It doesn't take long to find them, and it's barely the work of a minute to unbuckle the thigh armour and work down Louis's calves to the boots. 

"How are you—" Louis is saying, above him. Liam glances up, which is a mistake, because he fumbles one of the buckles at the look on Louis's face. It's the same familiar look of annoyed, grudging affection that he's grown used to, but there's something about it, this time—some undercurrent of satisfaction and appreciation and arousal—that makes him flush and duck his head. "How are you even _doing_ that?" Louis demands. "It took me forever to work out how this thing went together, and you're just—it's like the bloody tents all over again." 

"You never read the instructions," Liam says, mostly at random. He lifts off the thigh armour, revealing Louis's bare legs and the bottom edge of his boxers. He's not wearing any trousers, not even tracksuit bottoms. Liam runs the palms of his hands up Louis's thighs, and feels Louis flex and release. 

" _You_ haven't read the instructions," Louis retorts, but he steps out of the boots when Liam unbuckles them. 

There's a catch at the bottom of the breastplate, and the parts of the suit that cover Louis's torso and back come off easily. Liam sets the armour aside and looks up the length of Louis's body. Louis's still wearing the helmet, and has Iron Man's arms, but with the rest of the suit off he looks like Louis again, in boxers and a plain t-shirt, every line of his body as familiar as breathing. He's hard, and Liam leans forward, nuzzling Louis's dick through his boxers. 

"Liam," Louis breathes. Liam takes the hint, and pushes Louis's boxers down and off; then he goes back in, one hand on Louis's hip to steady them both, and the other around his dick. He bends his head, licking over the head of Louis's cock, nudging the foreskin with his tongue. 

"Fuck," Louis says distinctly, letting go of Liam. Liam pulls off Louis's dick so that he can look up in protest—but Louis is only taking off the Iron Man helmet. His hair is a mess, half flattened by the helmet and half standing on end, and his cheeks are flushed when he looks back down at Liam. "Well?" Louis demands, in the voice he reserves for challenges, for poking and prodding and working at Liam until Liam does exactly what Louis wants. 

Liam smiles up at him. "Yeah," he says, "okay, Lou," and then he leans back in and slides his mouth down Louis's cock. Louis sucks in a harsh breath and puts his hands back on Liam's head, tangling the fingers of the gloves in Liam's hair. Liam hums around Louis's dick, low and pleased. 

He gets into it, finding a rhythm between his hand and his mouth, sucking Louis's dick slow and wet and a little sloppy. Louis's hands tug and pull at his hair, urging him on, and Liam keeps half an ear on the noises Louis is making, choked-off gasps and Liam's name, and a steady stream of "Fuck, Liam, do that again—you're really—how are you so good at this, _fuck_ ," which mostly makes Liam suck harder. Louis tastes amazing, and he's not especially polite, which Liam discovers—not entirely to his surprise—that he quite likes. He's getting a little hazy, the world narrowed down to Louis's dick nudging up against the back of his throat, when Louis says, " _Liam_ ," in a different voice, and pulls his hair hard enough to make Liam take his mouth off Louis's dick. 

"If you want me to fuck you," Louis says, his voice rough, "you've got to stop that." 

Liam leans his face against Louis's hip, trying to catch his breath. He doesn't want to stop, but he also really wants Louis to fuck him. "Yeah, alright," he says, and lets Louis tug him to his feet; he only has about a second before the repulsor beams in the Iron Man gloves light up, and Louis's shoving him onto the bed. Liam lands on his back, laughing, and then props himself up on his elbows. 

Louis comes to stand between his legs, grinning down at Liam. "You need to be naked," he says. 

"Make me," Liam says, without really thinking about it; he's still a little dazed, but Louis just grins wider and hooks his fingers into the waistband of Liam's pants. He takes them off slowly—so slowly that Liam's breath is coming in quick, shaky bursts by the time he's naked on the bed—and then Louis wraps the fingers of the Iron Man glove around Liam's dick. Liam jerks, surprised by the feel of the glove, cold and metallic and inhuman, and Louis says, "Oh, I—" and stops. They both stare at Liam's dick, caught in the circle of Iron Man's hand.

"So," Liam says, finally, "that's—" 

"I wasn't really thinking," Louis interrupts. "I'll—I should take them off, with the rest of the costume and everything, it would be—"

"Wait," Liam says. "Don't." He shifts his weight onto one hand and reaches up, unfastening the armour covering Louis's arms and shoulders and left hand, until the only piece of the suit left is the glove on Louis's right hand, still holding Liam's dick. Louis's watching him, eyes wide. "Now you should get the—stuff," Liam says breathlessly. 

" _Liam_." Louis's voice is high and hot, and Liam tugs him down for a kiss. "Do you really—" Louis asks against his mouth, "I didn't think—" 

Liam bites Louis's lip, and then sucks a kiss into the hollow of his throat. "Shut up, Lou," he says, "If you don't get on with it, I won't be responsible for my actions." 

"You're always responsible," Louis says, but he lets go of Liam and goes to rummage in his suitcase. Liam leans up on his elbows and watches him; Louis's bags are still mostly unpacked, spilling across half the bedroom floor, but he comes up with condoms and lube in a surprisingly short amount of time. Then he glances over his shoulder at Liam and takes off his shirt. 

"Come back here," Liam says softly, holding Louis's gaze. 

Louis nods and crosses the room. Liam spreads his legs obligingly when Louis climbs up onto the bed and presses him back into the pillows, moans into his mouth when Louis kisses him and grinds down until their cocks rub together. 

" _Lou_ ," Liam says, "come _on_." 

" _Liam_ ," Louis echoes, half-mocking, but he backs off to kneel between Liam's thighs, and reaches for the lube. 

Louis opens him up slowly, one lube-slick finger and then a second. His left hand is a bit uncoordinated, but it's still good—and it's slow enough for Liam to adjust, for him to close his eyes and tilt his head back against the pillows and start pushing up into the feeling, before Louis says, "Okay," and slides his right hand over Liam's arse. "This didn't exactly come with instructions for use in the bedroom," Louis says, "but—if you're ready?" 

"Don't know what they think people are going to use it for," Liam mutters. Louis laughs. "Go on, then," Liam says softly, and Louis does something Liam can't see with a condom and the lube, and then pushes one finger of the glove into Liam's arse. It's harder than one of Louis's own fingers, stiff and inflexible, and Liam squirms, hands fisting in the sheets. 

"Liam," Louis says, sounding a little panicked, "are you sure this is—"

It's a lot. The intractability of Iron Man's hand opening him up is overwhelming and hot and terrifying, all at the same time; and then abruptly it's not enough. "Yeah," he says, his eyes falling shut, "come on, Lou, give me more. Do I have to call you Tony?" 

Louis slides in another finger of the glove, twisting them until something sparks all of Liam's nerve endings at once. "Don't you dare," he says quietly, as Liam arches up into his hands. "I can be Iron Man for you, Liam, I can—I can try to be whatever you want; but it's still just me that's fucking you." 

Liam shivers all over, and opens his eyes again. Above him, Louis is flushed and sweating and beautiful. "Louis," he gasps, "Lou, I—" He pauses, trying to catch his breath. It's hard to make words come together when he can barely think. " _You're_ the only idol I have that I want to fuck me," he says, finally. "I don't want you to be anyone else. I just want you to be you."

"Jesus, Liam," Louis breathes, and then he pulls his fingers out of Liam's arse. "I—you can't just _say_ things like that to me." 

Louis's shifted back on the bed and taken his hands off Liam; Liam pushes himself up on his elbows, trying to concentrate. He wants to protest, but whatever this is, it seems like it's important. "Why not?" 

Louis shakes his head. "I'm not—I put on this Iron Man suit to get revenge, to like, fuck with your head. I'm not like you. I'm not all good."

"What you are is _stupid_ ," Liam says. "I don't care, anyway, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. You and the lads. You _are_ good, and even if you weren't, I'd still—I just want all of you, alright? Good and bad." He frowns. Louis's eyes are suspiciously bright. "Lou, are you okay? We can stop, if you want." He really doesn't want to stop, but he needs Louis to be okay. "Did I say something wrong?" 

" _No_ ," Louis says, "you arsehole." He dashes his hand under his eyes, blinking away tears, and Liam is about to get up on his knees to hug him when Louis says firmly, "No, stay where you are." Liam stops moving. Louis smiles down at him, his realest, most dazzling smile. "I'm okay," he says, "I am, it's just—I was so mad at you, it was so stupid, and then you were all—perfect, in Japan, and I didn't know what to do, and then after we got back, I—sometimes I don't know what I've done to deserve you." 

Liam shakes his head, a little uncomprehending. He's never understood this, about Louis—how one minute he can be so sure of himself, so absolutely certain that he should always be the center of attention, and then the next he'll start talking like he's the least important member of the band. It's complete bollocks, because Louis is indispensable. Liam still doesn't understand why Louis can't see that, but he'll keep telling him for as long as it takes. For right now, though— "Fucking me would be a start," he offers, taking a risk, and even though it comes out softer and shyer than he'd intended, Louis starts laughing. 

"Yeah, love," Louis says warmly, "you've got it." Liam closes his eyes when Louis slides Iron Man's fingers back into his arse, and then replaces them with his own, slick and definitely not enough. Then he takes those out, too, and says, "okay, just give me a sec—" when Liam groans. 

Liam listens to him moving—the faint creak of the bed, a soft thud as Louis takes off the Iron Man glove and drops it on the floor, the tear of the condom packet—and it's longer than a second, but not much longer, before Louis's dick is nudging up against Liam's arse. Liam exhales on the first push in, trying to keep his breathing even. One of Louis's hands comes down on Liam's knee, and Liam lifts his leg obligingly, hooking his knee over Louis's shoulder. 

"All that working out has made you quite bendy," Louis says breathlessly, and then, "oh god, Liam," as he pushes the rest of the way in. It's a lot to take, even after Louis's fingers and the glove, and he wills his body to relax. Louis stays still, waiting for him to catch up, his hands solid and steadying on the backs of Liam's thighs; then Liam clenches, just a bit, and Louis shifts, pulling out and pushing back in, and just like that Liam's on fire. 

"Fuck," he groans, and Louis laughs, wildly, and thrusts again, and then again. Liam twists his hands in Louis's duvet and just—takes it, lets Louis fuck him, hard and slow and steady, relentless. He forgets about his own dick, forgets about everything except Louis fucking him, until Louis lets go of his thighs and shifts, changing the angle so that he's fucking deeper into Liam and can get his hand around Liam's dick. 

"Look at me, Liam," Louis says, "come on." 

Liam opens his eyes. Louis hair is sticking to his forehead, and his mouth is very red. Liam surges up to kiss him. Louis kisses him back, but then he plants a hand on Liam's chest and pushes him back down. It's just Louis, now—the whole Iron Man costume's off, littered in pieces across Louis's bedroom floor—but even though Liam could flip them, even though he _could_ , it's not what he wants. He wants Louis to keep him right where he is; he wants to do everything Louis wants. 

"Lou," Liam says, " _Louis_." Louis tightens his fist around Liam's dick and fucks back into him. Liam holds his gaze, breathing harshly as Louis's thrusts get wilder and faster; Louis wanks him off at the same time, finding an unsteady rhythm that has Liam thrusting up into his fist even as he pushes down onto Louis's cock. 

Louis comes first, and Liam's still watching him when he does it, sees his eyes shut as he thrusts hard into Liam and then goes still. Liam catches him, hands going out to bracket Louis's arms as he collapses. He lands half on top of Liam, his face tucked into Liam's shoulder as he shakes through it; and then Louis's tugging on his cock and Liam's done, too, coming wet and hot all over Louis's hand. 

"Fuck," Louis says muzzily, into Liam's shoulder. 

Liam puts his arms around Louis, still shaking with aftershocks. He winces when Louis reaches down and pulls out, and sighs when he rolls away to get rid of the condom; but Louis's back in his arms a moment later, sweaty and warm. 

"I can't believe you thought I would _leave_ ," Liam says into Louis's damp hair, exasperated and tired and happy. "For fuck's sake, Lou, I've known you for three years." 

"Yeah," Louis says, "but we've only been fucking for two days. It's just—" 

"I know," Liam says, because he actually has known Louis for three years. "But, like, if I haven't run away by now? I think it's safe to say I'm not going anywhere." 

Louis huffs a laugh, and bites Liam's collarbone. Liam remembers the way Louis used to do that, when they were just starting to be friends. A lot's changed, since then; but in some ways nothing's changed at all. "What if I start staying up all night building robots?" 

"That would be cool," Liam says. "Up all night to build robots actually sort of scans." 

"You are a ridiculous person, Liam Payne," Louis says, but Liam can tell that he's smiling.

Liam rolls them over so he can see Louis's face. He was right, Louis is smiling. "Yeah," he says, and leans in to kiss the corner of Louis's smiling mouth. "Which is thanks to you, right? So, like—whatever you need. Whatever you want. I can be Beckham, or Captain America, or me, and you can be Iron Man, or whoever, and we'll—we'll work it out. We always work it out."

Louis kisses him again. "Yeah," he says. He's still smiling, even though Liam invoked Beckham; Liam figures that's about as good as it gets. "I suppose we do."

**Author's Note:**

> Louis Tomlinson [does](http://oliviacirce.tumblr.com/post/65089653821/louis-its-pretty-embarrassing-but-i-bought-a) [own](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m9itwTLXPD4) an Iron Man costume in actual real life. The suit in this story is loosely based on [this one](http://buyironmansuit.com/), with some modifications. Thanks for reading! ♥
> 
> [tumblr](http://oliviacirce.tumblr.com/) • [twitter](https://twitter.com/oliviacirce)


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